


The Ghost of Rouge Mansion

by JayTheSaltyBastard



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, F/M, Filmmaker!Nino, Ghost!Alya, Inspired By Tumblr, Miraculous Ladybug - Freeform, Tumblr AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayTheSaltyBastard/pseuds/JayTheSaltyBastard
Summary: Nino Lahiffe is an aspiring filmmaker hoping to shoot his first short in the Rouge Mansion. The mansion itself had not been used since young reporter Alya Césaire was killed trying to do research on the place. Nino is prepared to shoot his film, but a shocking revelation that the mansion is haunted sends Nino spiraling into a paradox that he’s not quite sure he can get out of. The biggest problem? The ghost is hot as hell.Based on a Tumblr AU I'll link for you





	1. An Unforeseen Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> Warning you now, I can't write for shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya Césaire looks around. The results are fatal

You can find the inspiration for this AU [here](https://niyes-lahiffe.tumblr.com/search/%23ghost+au)

 

* * *

 

 

Alya looked over the large building known locally as the Rouge Mansion, curiosity apparent in her gaze.

 

She had taken plenty of pictures of the faded red bricks from the outside, already the entire report done, but she wanted a few pictures of the place to tie everything together.

 

After circling the exterior and taking a few photos, she walked back towards the front, regarding the large oak doors for a moment before walking up to them. She tested the handle. Locked.

 

Pulling out her lockpick (she never left home without it), she fiddled with the lock for a minute before hearing a satisfying click. Smirking to herself, she opened one of the grand doors, admiring the smoothness of the hinges. It didn’t squeak.

 

She stepped inside, gasping at the beauty of the place. It had a tall ceiling, a beautiful crystal chandelier suspended. It looked as though it had been cleaned not an hour ago, but Alya knew the place had been abandoned for decades.

 

She whipped out her recorder, grinning ear to ear.

 

“Hey there techheads, we are currently live at the Rouge Mansion where I _was_ taking photos for a school report, but I decided to try something new.”

 

Already the video had 300 people watching, and Alya was showing the camera the scenery. She saw the chat explode with comments, most in awe, others a little disappointed it the stream didn’t involve anything to do with the awesome tech Alya usually worked with.

 

She wandered around a bit, commenting on cool things that caught her eye and gaping over the shape of the place. It was in near perfect condition.

 

After ten minutes of looking around, she started to climb the staircase, sliding her hand smoothly across the marble handrail.

 

“Holy jesus guys, look at this place,” Alya gasped, holding the camera up so that her viewers could see the room. It had abstract-patterned carpet on the floor, dark purple couches accented with gold. There was a fireplace in the area, and two large windows on either side of it.

 

Alya paused to admire, it was honestly beautiful.

 

“Hello?”

 

Alya whipped around. There was a little girl, five, maybe six, standing there, two buck teeth and pigtail standing out against her head.

 

“Hello there,” Alya said, crouching down. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe to be alone.”

 

“You’re alone,” the girl said. Before Alya could retort, she brightened, grabbing Alya’s wrist and tugging. “I’m Manon. Want to play?”

 

Alya gave her a confused look. “I can’t. At least not now. Let’s head back to the city. We can play there.”

 

Manon’s face grew angry. “I said,” her grip tightened, and Alya cried out, dropping her phone, “do. You. Want. To. Play?”

 

Alya clenched her teeth, feeling her wrist crack from the force of Manon’s grip. “No, I don’t want to play! Let me go!”

 

Manon snarled. “Wrong answer.”

 

Before Alya could react, Manon began morphing.

 

“What the fuck?!” Alya yelped, stumbling backwards.

 

The last thing the viewers heard a shriek of pain and a sickening crack.

 

The video feed went dead.

 

~~~

 

Police were at the mansion within thirty minutes.

 

No body was found, no evidence that Alya had ever been there to begin with besides the open door.

 

People who had been on the stream were interviewed and questioned, the stream was watched again and again by detectives and theorists.

 

The reporter known as Alya Césaire was declared dead two months later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is is, first chapter done


	2. A Stupid Location

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nino wants to film a movie. He picks a dumb location

Nino Lahiffe liked to think of himself as a great kid. He had nice friends, achievable goals, a loving family, he got good grades. The only things he was lacking were money, a girlfriend, and a decent video camera.

 

Then he met Adrien Agreste.

 

Nino hadn’t thought much of Adrien at first. He was a rich model with daddy issues and no friends except Chloé Bourgeois, but as he started to get to know him better, Nino found that Adrien was an amazing person.

 

And that same amazing person bought Nino a filming camera after Nino had told him he wanted to be a filmmaker. Everyone in the class had volunteered to be part of the film.

 

Marc and Nathaniel would be in charge of the script and storyboard respectively, Marinette would be on props along with Juleka, Rose, and Mylene. Alix and Kim would be supply runners, Ivan would help with the heavy lifting, Max would do the sound effects, and Adrien would be the main character. Nino had everything planned out.

 

Except for a location.

 

There were plenty of places they could record, inside the school, at the Agreste Mansion, Le Grand Paris, and other places.

 

But it was a horror film, and so, they needed a place that could be seen as a horrific environment.

 

And so, that is why Nino found himself gazing up at the faded red bricks of the abandoned Rouge Mansion.

 

He’d heard stories of the place. Marinette told him her aunt, Bridgette, had a friend who died in that mansion. Nino had done some research and found that Marinette was right. 

 

_ Aspiring reporter Alya Césaire, who runs the Tech Site known as the Ladyblog, was declared missing on March 4th, 2003. She had been recording herself inside the Rouge Mansion when she had seen a little girl who called herself Manon. Eyewitness accounts tell of the child grabbing and taking Miss Césaire away, though her body was never found.  _

 

_ Even now, eight years later, most people still refuse to enter or go near the Mansion. Nearby pedestrians report of fox-like sounds coming from the mansion at night and claim that the place is haunted by a spirit under the name of Rena.  _

 

_ No one knows for sure what happened, but one thing’s for certain. _

 

_ No one wants anything to do with it. _

 

Nino closed down the article on his phone, glancing at the fabulous oak doors.

 

He walked forward with a sigh. Idiots. None of it was real.

 

He tested the handle, surprised when it came open with one fluid motion.

 

He walked inside, taking in the scenery. He was impressed as he glanced around, finding the place to be in near-perfect condition.

 

He looked around the first floor, admiring the beauty of the place. As he made his way up the dark wood staircase, the marble handrails adding a nice accent to the place. 

 

As he reached the upstairs portion, he gasped, blinking in shock at the carpeted living area. The carpet itself was a dark, royal red, abstract shapes of gold scattered around it. The dark purple couches had blue accents, the frames a lovely shade of gold. He snapped from his stupor, remembering that this was the room the Césaire girl died in.

 

A feeling of dread washed through him, stomach twisting into knots. He hurriedly exited the room, escaping down one of the hallways. 

 

The rest of the rooms were mostly the same, a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, typical room stuff but stunningly gorgeous. Then Nino found the balcony.

 

It had a wide expanse, large enough to fit up to twenty people comfortably. He had thought the class could enjoy lunch breaks up there when they weren’t recording.

 

As he was making his way back towards the foyer, he paused. There was a faint giggle, like someone trying to keep quiet. Sweat began to break from his skin, and he hurried.

 

Just as he was approaching the staircase, a painting fell from the wall. Nino let out a high pitched, very-not-feminine scream, and tripped backwards. The giggling turned to laughter, and a shape stepped out from behind a pillar.

 

“Oh man,” it howled, clutching its stomach and doubling over in a fit of laughter. “Oh god, your face.”

 

Nino’s eyes went wide, and then he fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is done! I don't know when the next update will be but I'll try to make it soon!


	3. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nino returns to the school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shot chapter. I dunno. The next one will be better I promise

When Nino came to god-knows-how-long later, the memories came rushing back to him like a broken dam. He sat up, gasping.

 

“Gee, took ya long enough,” someone snickered.

 

Nino whipped around, biting back a scream as he looked at the thing that had scared him earlier.

 

Its skin was a translucent, pale brown color, the hair a faded auburn. Its amber eyes glowed, standing out against the rest of its body. The thing had a hazy orange glow, and it continued to giggled hysterically. Nino’s eyes snapped wide.

 

“Y-you’re Alya Césaire!” he yelped, scrambling up.

 

The ghost nodded, condescending smirk growing at his terror. She gave a cackle, lunging into a wall and disappearing from sight. Nino sprinted from the hall, bolting towards the staircase. He took the steps three at a time, jumping the last five and stumbling at the end. He continued his frantic running out the door, down the worn dirt path, and all the way back into the city.

 

When he finally arrived back at the school, covered in dirt and sweat, he collapsed, sucking in breaths of air as though they were the cure to cancer.

 

After several minutes of trying to calm him down, the class watched as he chugged his fifth glass of water, splashing the remaining third on his face.

 

“I s-saw someone,” he panted, trying to ease his thundering heart.

 

The class looked at him, some skeptical, others curios. 

 

“Who was it?” Alix asked, her blue eyes betraying concern.

 

After another two minutes, Nino took a deep breath, “So you guys remember the rumors that the place was haunted after the Césaire girl died? Yeah, well I’m 100% sure I saw her in that mansion. She knocked over a photo then laughed at me for being afraid.”

 

The class stood in silence.

 

~~~

 

Three months ago, if you had told Nino Lahiffe ghosts were real, he would have scoffed and called you crazy.

 

If you had asked Nino Lahiffe if he believed in ghost  _ two _ months ago, he would pale and stutter out some excuse about having to be somewhere.

 

Nino Lahiffe was a boy who had survived the Rouge Mansion, unscathed but plagued mentally.

 

So why, I ask you, does he feel the unquenchable urge to return?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you. That would spoil it


	4. Not So Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nino returns. Maybe Alya isn't all that he thought she was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Significantly longer than the last one, again, I apologize for that

Nino had told himself fifty times that he would not go back, and yet not once did he break his ragged pace as he approached the mansion.

 

_ You could turn back now, _ he thought as those damned oak doors came into view.  _ You could walk away and no one would ever know you were here _ . 

 

Still, his shaky steps did not cease as he came closer the half-open, dark wooden doors. 

 

_ Stop, _ he ordered himself.  _ Turn around. Please _ .

 

He was inside now, the beautiful staircase shining mockingly in front of him.

 

The door slammed shut, and Nino leapt nearly a foot in the air.

 

A familiar cackle echoes in his ears.

 

“Welcome back!” the Césaire girl laughed, a delighted smile settling on her features. Nino shrieked, racing up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. He slammed the door, breathing heavily. His eyes were wide.

 

A giggle cut through the otherwise deafening silence, and Nino froze, breath catching in his throat.

 

“You can run,” she sang, “but you can’t hide!”

 

Nino gasped as the ghost was suddenly in front of him, an innocent smile planted on her face.

 

“Hey there.”

 

Nino turned scrambling to exit. The ghost laughed.

 

His intention was to escape down the stairs and back through the door, but at the bottom of the wooden staircase, his legs seemed to freeze. Not giving himself time to think of why, he darted towards the kitchen.

 

The ghost was there.

 

He screamed, throat beginning to hurt. 

 

An hour or so later, he lay on the ground in the room the ghost had supposedly died in. A giggle caused him to turn. He trembled.

 

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” he croaked.

 

The ghost let out a laugh. “Because I haven’t had this much fun in almost five years!”

 

That gave Nino a pause.

 

“Five y-years?” he choked.

 

The ghost had sobered. “Yeah. Since I died.”

 

“But, you’ve been dead for almost  _ twenty _ -five years!”

 

The ghost froze, confusion coming to her face.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I-I read an article. You died on March 4th, 2003. It’s currently November 8th, 2027.”

 

The ghost shook her head. “No that-that can’t be right.”

 

Nino’s eyes, still wide, found her near-transparent amber ones. 

 

The ghost had lost all mischief in her gaze, and now she just looked… broken.

 

“Twenty-twenty-five years?”

 

Nino nodded.

 

The ghost blinked twice, realization settling in her gaze. She looked at him, curiosity coming forward. 

 

“What did you say your name was?”

 

“N-Nino Lahiffe.” Nino decided not to mention that he had never told her his name to begin with.

 

“And what are you doing in my mansion, Nino Lahiffe.”

 

“I-I wanted to record a film.”

 

“And what’s this film about, Nino?”

 

“A boy, Adrien Agreste, comes here seeking refuge from a storm, only to find that the place is haunted with the ghost of Rena Rouge, the original owner of the mansion. Rena’s angry and out for revenge, but Adrien only wants to help.”

 

The ghost looked thoughtful. “This Adrien kid, is he related to Gabriel Agreste, by any chance?”

 

Nino nodded. Alya wasn’t so bad when she wasn’t trying to scare him or anything. “His son, actually. Do you know him?”

 

Alya shrugged. “I did an interview with him a few months before I died, so we’ve met. He most likely doesn’t remember me.”

 

“Did you know Adrien’s mom?”

 

Alya lit up. “Oh, Emilie was a delight. Mr. Agreste was busy and running late for the interview so we had time to chat. I met her three times after that. We were supposed to meet again but, well, you know. Nathalie was also pretty cool. A bit dry but her humor had a nice edge to it.”

 

Nino raised an eyebrow.

 

“What?” Alya asked.

 

“How did we go from you hunting me down to having a nice chat?”

 

Alya shrugged. “Do you want to go back to it?”

 

“No no, I’m good,” Nino replied quickly.

 

“So tell me more about this film.”


End file.
